Mactabilis
I would like to apologize for the current overall sloppiness of this fanfic, I've been writing it out of order. I'll fix it as soon as I have time. Prologue Something pulled on Merit's conscience. He jerked awake suddenly, sitting up and feeling painfully disoriented. A gentle tinkling followed his movements, produced by hundreds of charms that he wore as necklaces, bracelets, and several earrings. As he became more alert, remembering that he had taken refuge in a tall, abandoned, business building, he started trying to identify the odd sensation. He could only tell that he felt sick and slightly panicked. He grabbed one of his simplest charms, a plain wooden carving, his most important charm, and held it to his chest, trying to comfort himself. He felt like his mind was being torn up, the constant desire to use his animus, this new tugging, and general panic from being a witness to the worlds demise. Merit felt a very sudden need for fresh air, accompanied by an unbearable pulling in his mind. He took the first course of action that came into his mind and charged a glass window, the only source of light in the room. He didn't slow as he hit it, letting his shoulder take the brunt of the impact. He snapped his wings open as the window burst, jumping into flight with a halo of shattered glass. He was simultaneously bombarded with pain in his shoulder, and another urge to fly faster. Merit forced himself, once again, to resist the urge to use his animus. He could heal himself. He could find out what the tugging in his mind was. But animus powers were not safe to use. Especially not for him. Not after volunteering his powers for the military, a vain attempt to stop war. And he nearly did stop it. And he nearly killed himself. Blackouts and anger became frequent, as did his hatred for dragons. Eventually, he enchanted a pair of arm bands that would stop him from using his animus powers, and wore them until the end of the war. He would give anything to have taken them off just once. They were the only thing that stopped him from trying to raise his friend from the dead. His only friend was dead because of those arm bands. Merit was suddenly overwhelmed by a desire to use his powers. Simultaneously, he felt like he was being pulled by a string, flying past buildings, towards something. Something that he guessed was related to his own animus powers. I can heal you. I can make you strong again. You need the magic. You can be invincible. NO. Leave me alone. You will make me into your puppet. You will destroy everything that is left in this wasteland of an empty world. You'll make me do it for you. You will fold. You always do eventually. Merit shuddered. He wasn't sure whose voice he heard in his head. Maybe he was already insane. Why don't you never leave me alone? He was answered only by the sound of his own wing beats, feeling surprised, but also anxious. Then he stopped himself, letting his wings slow as he held himself in the air. He could almost feel the moon above him, an electricity in the night. His mind was silent. The need to move was almost painful, and his shoulder ached. But he felt odd, holding himself in place felt wrong. He started moving again, then stopped. Why am I following? And who is pulling me? Animus. Something touching his animus powers. Finding and pulling him. And then, he couldn't hold against the pull any longer. He let his wings continue their monotonous movement, propelling him through the silent city, spiraling over streets and between buildings, until the pull suddenly cut off. He was left feeling disoriented, and landed in the empty street below, his talons crunching against the cracked asphalt. He spun in a quick circle, scanning the street around him for any sign of life. He knew he wasn't alone, even if the city was empty. But his mind felt empty. Silent. He wanted to cry with relief, cry until he drifted into sleep. Then there was a sound. Merit jumped, his mind jerking back to the world around him. He scanned the streets again, and this time spotted a small dragon, either a rainwing or a skywing, judging by their scales, which were a light crimson. Just a dragonet. ''He still was nervous, however, and the long shadows of sunrise did not help him with the feeling. He decided to be the first one to speak. "What's your name?" He winced as he said it, realizing just how stupid he sounded. ''Practically everyone in Pyhrria is dead and I'm trying to be polite. He was almost glad when the dragonet didn't answer him. He spoke a second time, and this time, he was more to the point. "Animus?" The dragonet nodded, barely moving. She looked strained, and her eyes showed terror. "Hey, I'm not going to hurt you..." ''She must have called me here. Why would she be afraid of me... ''His mind reached the conclusion to slowly for him to act. Someone behind him, who had probably been hidden in the shadows, tackled him. His wing were instantly pinned, and his head was smashed into the hard ground. He yelled in pain, and the dragon on top of him hissed. He instinctively started mentally reaching for his animus magic, intending to enchant one of his necklaces and make himself stronger, but he found himself unable to move. And suddenly, he couldn't breathe. The dragon on his back was pulling one of merit's necklaces against his throat. Then the dragon spoke. "Fliere, please give me the necklace." He sounded calm and relaxed. Merit tried to twist free, but he still couldn't move. At the same time, he felt the small red dragonet, Fliere, move closer to both of them. And then he could breathe. There was a pinch in his shoulder, and then he could move properly. Each breath was a battle. All of his effort was put into moving his chest up and down. Any other movement was to difficult to perform. So he breathed. The dank air of the cement around him, his entire body giving his mind messages of nauseating pain. Spire never had imagined starvation could reach this level of pain. He wished he had died. Given in to the beatings he had received. He could barely see in the darkness around him, only the vague silhouette of the pipes and the boiler that covered the walls. His head rested in water, and that preserved him. A broken water pipe giving him the life sustaining water that kept him on the brink of life. He was no longer aware of the bindings that held him. Wires cruelly twisted around his forelegs. Even without them, moving was impossible. Escape was impossible. Survival could only continue for a limited time. It's patience with him was ending. Category:Fanfictions